


Sweet dreams are made of these

by myrish_lace



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Half-Sibling Incest, Hurt/Comfort, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Sharing a Bed, They'll figure it out eventually, fast burn, they're cousins though, two-shot? Is that a thing?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-10 03:59:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7829599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrish_lace/pseuds/myrish_lace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon's normally pretty tongue-tied when Sansa is around. It's a different story at night, when they're together and he talks in his sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Sansa**

"Shhh, Sansa, love, it's all right, you're safe." She was curled against Jon's chest as he stroked her back, ran his hands down her arms. He was in her bed, just like every night since Ghost brought him to door after she woke up screaming. 

She had started to count them, the times Jon slipped, when he comforted her at night.

_Love, my love, sweet girl._

She would have thought he was remembering someone else, his wildling lover, another woman he'd known, but he always said her name, too.

She loved how he sounded at night, all caution gone, his voice low and deep in his chest. 

They never talked about it when they woke. She asked him about it once, a few months ago, before he left her room - and he always left early, just before dawn, before most of the castle woke. He left quietly, he didn't even have to put any clothes on, he slept in his clothes while she slept in her shift, and he'd learned to be stealthy in the Night's Watch. Sansa heard him every single time. This morning they'd woken later than most. She stopped him before he left, putting a a hand on his shoulder. He turned, and she let her hand drop to the blanket, still warm from where they'd slept together.

"Did you sleep all right, Jon?" His hair had come undone in the night, and she itched to run her fingers through it. He glanced at her over his shoulder, looking like a horse that wanted to bolt. It would hurt her, how much he wanted to leave, if she hadn't heard the endearments, the promises he made at night. "I did," he said, half-smiling, half-frowning.  

"You don't have to do it, Jon, I know it's asking a lot." _I know people talk, I know you worry, I would worry too but I'm past caring, I just want a good man who loves me to hold me at night._

"No, it's all right," he said, perched on the edge of the bed, "l'm glad it helps you." He got up, quickly. She held the sheet to her chest, even though she was in her night shift.

**Jon**

It wracked him with guilt, that he wanted Sansa in every way a brother shouldn't, when all she needed was comfort. He could give her that, at least. He never fully understood why Ghost brought him to the door that night. The minute he heard her screaming, though, he had to get in there, to try to make it better for her, to make the nightmares stop. 

That first night she was disheveled, and her eyes were swollen with crying. The covers were thrown back and there wasn't a thought in his head but to go to her, to calm her. It wasn't until she laid her head on his chest that he remembered why he stayed as far away from her as he could. Traitorous thoughts came into his head. He could feel the curve of her hip under her shift. If he moved just slightly he could kiss the tears away at her cheek, down her neck. He could finally learn how her mouth tasted, and whether she'd kiss him back. She clung to him and he held her, soothing her. "You're safe, Sansa, it was just a bad dream."

"Don't go, Jon, don't ever go." Even though she was still half-wild with fear, her words tugged at a desire deep inside him, to have a place in someone's life, in someone's heart.

He thought to leave when her breathing slowed. She was in his lap and his breeches were uncomfortably tight. He shifted and she caught his waist. "Stay, Jon. Stay tonight. Only tonight."

Her eyes were hazy but she looked calmer, more peaceful, and that decided him. "All right, Sansa. If that's what you want. I'll stay." 

His dreams were filled with her, they had been since Castle Black, but they were more vivid now that he knew intimate details: that her shoulders were freckled and she braided her hair to the side at night and her shift only came to her calves, that she rubbed her feet together before she fell asleep and her sheets smelled like lemons and summer rain. In his dreams he told her everything, all of it, how much he wanted to touch her, to taste her, to give her whatever she wanted, to pull her shift over her head and kiss every inch of her skin. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More angst in the next chapter :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Sansa**  

He slipped again as the thunder struck - _sweet girl_ \- his hand was at her hip and his lips were next to her ear, his breath tickling her cheek. This time she used the courage she'd saved up and tipped her head to kiss him. He kissed her back, instantly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and pulled her closer, so she was tight against his chest. Sansa reveled in how sure he was, how confident, when there was no shame between them. She let him deepen the kiss as she brushed against him.  Jon murmured, and his palm skimmed the swell of her breast over her shift. He ran his thumb over the fabric and she couldn't help it, the sound she made - 

Jon started to wake, he blinked as he realized where his hand was, how close they were, and he pushed away from her, stumbling over his words.

"Sansa, I - I'm sorry, I didn't...."

"Shhhh," she said, reaching for him, caressing the back of his hand with her fingertips, "you're dreaming, Jon. This is a dream."

"A dream?" She kept up the rhythm, sweeping over his hand, and she saw him at war with himself.

"Yes, a dream, Jon, you're dreaming and I'm here with you and please, please, come back to bed."

Something inside him yielded and his face relaxed. He ducked his head to kiss her again. She'd never felt so alive, her whole body coming awake under his hands. His lips traced the shell of her ear. "Beautiful, you're always so beautiful, Sansa, I never tell you anywhere but here..."

"Tell me now, Jon." She should feel ashamed seducing her half-brother this way, but she had to know how he saw her during the day, when it seemed like he avoided her. "When we're awake, together, do you want me?"

"You know I want you, love, you know I do, every time you walk into a room I can't concentrate, I should be listening to Davos or planning how we're going to last the winter, and all I want is to pull you close, to bury my face in your shining hair and order everyone else out of the room and make love to you."

He was flushed, and earnest, and his words were like fire through her veins. 

"I love you, Sansa, here you don't hate me for it-"

"I don't Jon, I could never hate you for that." She cradled his head.

"You don't care that I'm your brother and it's wrong for me to want you like this- "

She slid her hands under his shirt and felt his muscles quiver under her touch. She wished she could wake him to have him take it off but he'd stop, he'd regret this. He didn't know it, but he was bunching up the linen at her waist, it was halfway up her thighs, and she shivered.

"When you shiver in the night I want to cover your body with mine, sweet girl, and kiss every inch of you. I want to make you feel good, love, and you want it as much as I do."

He was breathing faster, now, almost panting, and this was what she held onto when he would barely look at her once the sun rose. 

"I do, Jon. I want that. So much."  She thought the ache between her legs would never ease.  "Ask me, Jon. Ask me when you wake. I'll tell you yes. Just ask me."

But he wouldn't, as the days went by. He still climbed into her bed, gave her the same sad smile and was careful to put his back to her. 

She'd have to do it herself.

 

 **Jon**  

His dreams were getting stronger, more intense, better and therefore worse, and Jon thought he might have to end it, the sweet torment of sleeping next to her. That dream last week had almost done him in, when she'd told him  _yes_ and _ask me_ and _I want that, so much_.  Maybe Ghost could guard her bed rather than her door. It would be for the best. Never mind that he yearned to keep sharing her bed, just that, even if it was all they ever did. He was her brother, and he was supposed to protect her. He resolved to tell her that night.

***

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: They finally talk about it. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Sansa**

_I have the most wonderful dreams, Jon_. She'd planned to turn his words into her dreams, to make this easier for both of them.  Now that it came to it, she didn't have to pretend to be nervous, she really was. Hearing his confessions at night was one thing, but daylight made the edges sharper, his low and loving voice was a memory, and the man in front of her was guarded and wary. She thought she understood his reluctance better when she had to take the risk of telling him.

"I have something I need to tell you, Jon." Her voice faltered. He'd come to her room that night still dressed in the same clothes he'd worn at dinner. Something was off.

"Are the nightmares better?" 

"Yes, thanks to you Jon, but it's more than that. I..." She borrowed some of his words. "I hope you don't hate me for it."

He almost took a step towards her. "I could never hate you Sansa, you know that. Never."

She looked at the ground and the corner of her mouth twisted. "You haven't heard what I have to tell you, yet."

"It doesn't matter. Nothing you tell me could change that." His voice had an echo now of the tone he had at night and that steadied her, helped her stand up straighter. 

She met his eyes. "If this disgusts you Jon, I understand, I just - I have to tell you."

"Sansa-"

"I think about you. About us, when we're in bed together. I think things I shouldn't and they make me happy, Jon, happier than I've ever been."

She saw the confusion on his face. This was much, much harder than she thought.

"You're dear to me Jon, you've a place in my heart and it's not a brother's place. You whisper the sweetest things to me in this room, words that heal me, that put me back together after all I've been through.  I want them to be true. I keep them with me during the day, when it seems like we're so far away from each other."

Had she actually heard her name on his lips? Sansa swore she had, but with every second that went by when Jon didn't speak, she started to doubt it. She took in his clothes, realized he wasn't dressed for bed, and she understood - how could she have missed it? - that he was leaving, he was ending this. 

"I'm sure you were talking about someone else, some other woman. You want to stop this, and I understand. Maybe I just needed you to know how right you are."

What a fantasy she'd built for herself. Was she back to being a stupid girl who believed her own stories? She went and sat on the bed, hands on her knees, and waited for him to go, to hear the sound of the door as he shut it behind him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Jon's going to make it right. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Jon**

He saw her start to shut herself off, resigning herself to one more dream lost. He still couldn't quite believe what she was saying, but he couldn't bear that look on her face.

He moved to sit next to her on the bed, their bed. He'd spent so many nights here, it made it easier for him to put his arm around her waist, like he did that first night.

"Do you remember when Ghost first brought me to you?"

Her face was turned away from him, and even though they were next to each other they were further apart than when they started.

"Yes, of course. It was good of you, Jon. I remember you stayed, because I asked you to. That was kind."

She sounded like she had the week before when she'd put a Northern Lord firmly in his place. It might have cowed him, if he couldn't feel her shaking slightly against his arm. How could he get through to her? He took one of her hands in his. That got her to look at him, at least. Her eyes were blue, blue as the ice at the Wall on a clear day, and filled with tears. She was exquisite and brave and beautiful and he had to stay focused.

"That night - I wanted to stay, Sansa. I wanted to stay too much. I wanted to do more than hold you, I wanted to kiss your tears away, I wanted to kiss you like a lover would."

She leaned into him.

"I dream about you every night, Sansa. I was too much of a coward to tell you because I love to be near you, even if it's only here, and I didn't want to lose this, what we had. It was selfish. I didn't know I said those things at night, but I meant them, every one of them, they were all for you...did I really say all of them out loud?"

"Yes. I mean, most of them, maybe. Try me."

He traced the line of her cheekbone. "Love." He drew her braid over her shoulder. "My love." He lifted her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. "Sweet girl."

"Yes, Jon, those." She started to smile and his heart expanded. "There were others too."

"I said more of them?" Had he told her everything?

"Yes."

"Which ones?"

She was blushing now but still smiling. "Guess."

He could tell she liked to hear them, and he planned to say them the rest of his life. He kissed her fingertips as he spoke.

"How beautiful you are."

"Yes."

"That you don't hate me for feeling as I do?"

"Yes, I don't, Jon."

"I remember you said that, in my dream," he mused. "That I wanted to kiss you, every inch of you."

"Yes." She was well and truly pink now but her eyes were bright and she was still smiling. He kissed her ring finger. This one was the hardest.

"That I wanted to make love to you?"

"Yes... and..." She shifted on the bed, looked away and met his eyes again. "That you wanted to order everyone out of the room to do it."

He almost dropped her hand. "I said that one out loud? And you didn't kick me out?"

She lifted one shoulder. "It helped me, Jon, when you wouldn't look at me, when I worried this was a burden for you."

"Never a burden, Sansa. A torment, maybe, but never a burden."

She was facing him now, and she kissed his cheek. "I don't know how this ends, Jon," she whispered, "but I know how I want it to begin."

"How is that, Sansa? How do you want to begin?" He knew whatever she asked, he'd do it, and gladly.

She tucked her head under his chin as he held her. "You'd better change clothes and get ready for bed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it! :)


End file.
